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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22929502">Camp Bath</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexFlex/pseuds/AlexFlex'>AlexFlex</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A hint of Frodo/Sam, A tiny smidge of Bilbo/Thorin, Bathing/Washing, Camp hygiene, Early Days, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, M/M, Showers, baths, plumbing, toilet talk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:55:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,827</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22929502</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexFlex/pseuds/AlexFlex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>On their first day out of Rivendell, the first day of the Fellowship proper, the cultural differences of the group quickly become apparent in myriad small ways.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gimli (Son of Glóin)/Legolas Greenleaf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>89</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The Two Thousand Fics on AO3 Gigolas Challenge</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Note that in this story we see a different version of Gimli and Legolas, and they are different from ‘The Axe and Bow in Bree’. In addition, in this work Elves resemble cannon more closely in terms of sexuality.</p><p>This story also employs a different style of writing.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gimli stood with his back to the door and was silhouetted by the light of the forge. Nowhere else would he be relaxed enough to relinquish his training and have his back to a door.  This far into the caves, Legolas could feel the full, oppressive weight of the earth above him. As much as he loved to watch his beloved working, he could only bear to be down here, in the bowels of the caves, for a few hours at a time. Gimli’s private workshop was far smaller than Aglarond’s main forge and felt cosy. Legolas knew he would soon have another adornment. Dwarves courted through gift-giving and Gimli had said he wanted to make up for not having courted him ‘properly’ during the wartime when their love had first bloomed. </p><p>In the main foundry, the excess heat was harnessed for heating the hot water and this flowed through the caves in a series of pipes. Legolas preferred natural hot springs for a soak, but Gimli had pointed out that if the caves had contained hot springs they could not have built a settlement there. </p><p>“That would have been a young cave, love, if the heat of Arda still heated its pools.” Gimli went on to explain that it would have been thus too unstable to excavate further or to settle. When Dwarves settled they thought in terms of many generations. A structure may be foreseeably stable for five hundred years but in Dwarvish architecture, that is short-term thinking.  “We have an expression, ‘steaming rock pool’ to describe a Dwarrow who is fun and raises one's temperature, but is not one to consider for a long-term union. ‘Too unstable to build around’.</p><p>The Council had been nearly two months in the house of Elrond, and November had gone by with the last shreds of autumn, and December was passing ere we set out on our journey.  Our number was few, since our hope was in speed and secrecy and the Company of the ring was Nine and represented the Free Peoples of the World. Gandalf had surprised us by advocating for Merry and Pippin to join the Company. He had said in this matter it would be well to trust rather to their friendship than to great wisdom. Gimli was not happy about including a treacherous Elf among their number, fearing for safety of the Hobbits. One evening he, together with Gloin took Gandalf aside and asked him to reconsider, but it was futile. </p><p>In Rivendell, the Sword of Eledil had been forged anew by Elvish smiths and Aragorn gave it a new name and called it Andúril, Flame of the West. Frodo had accepted Sting from Bilbo, its well-tended blade glittering cold and bright. Also from Bilbo came a small shirt of mail. It was close-woven of many rings, as supple almost as linen, cold as ice and harder than steel. It shone like moonlit silver, and was studded with white gems.  It was the dwarf-mail Thorin had given him, his dower gift. Gimli wondered if they knew that mithril was the traditional gift from a king to his consort. </p><p>As he approached his rooms for a visit Gimli overheard the Burgler admonishing his nephew. “Never mind about how it looks, wear it under your outer clothes. Don’t tell anybody else, but I should feel happier if I knew you were wearing it. “</p><p>“Very well, I will take it, said Frodo. Bilbo put it on him, and fastened Sting upon the glittering belt. And then Frodo put over the top his old weather-stained breeches, tunic and jacket. </p><p>“Just a plain hobbit you look,” said Bilbo. “But there is more about you now than appears under the surface.”</p><p> Sam, Merry and Pippin carried the weapons supplied by Tom Bombadil. Gimli alone wore openly a short shirt of steel-rings and in his belt was a broad-bladed axe. Legolas had a bow and quiver and two long white knives and his haughty eyes were as piercing as any weapon. Gandalf bore his staff, but girt at his side was the elven-sword Glamdring, the mate of Orcrist that lay now upon the breast of Thorin under the Lonely Mountain. Their hope was in secrecy not in battle so the Company took little gear of war. All were furnished by Elrond with thick warm clothes, Spare food and clothes and blankets. The pony they had brought from Bree served as their beast of burden. The months in Rivendell had worked a great wonder of change on him and he was now glossy and seemed to have the vigour of youth again. </p><p>“Bill, my lad,” said Sam to the pony, “you oughtn’t have took up with us. You could have stayed here and et the best hay ‘til the new grass comes.” Bill swished his tail and said nothing.</p><p>In preparation Aragorn and Gandalf had spent days speaking of the perils they would meet; and they pondered the maps and books of lore that were in the house of Elrond. Sometimes Frodo was with them; but he was content to lean on their guidance, and he spent as much time as he could with Bilbo. During this time Legolas and Gimli, by unspoken agreement, maintained a distance between them. Gimli knew of the wiles and untrustworthiness of Elves and interacted with them only when necessary.</p><p>It was a cold grey day near the end of December. The East Wind was streaming through the bare branches of the trees. As the cheerless shadow of the early evening began to fall the Company made ready to set out. They were to start at dusk, for Elrond counselled them to journey under the cover of night as often as they could, until they were far from Rivendell. </p><p>“Fear the many eyes of the servants of Sauron,” he said. </p><p>Then, as they were departing Elrond called the Company to him. “This is my last word. The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On him alone is any charge laid: neither to cast away the Ring, nor to deliver it up to any servant of the Enemy, nor indeed to let any handle it save members of the Company and Council and then only in greatest need. The others go with him as free companions to help him on his way. You may tarry, or come back, or turn aside into other paths as chance allows. The further you go, the less easy it will be to withdraw; yet no oath or bond is laid on you to go further than you will. For you do not yet know the strength of your hearts, and you cannot forsee what each may meet on the road. Farewell, and any the blessing of Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you. May the stars shine upon your faces!”</p><p>“Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens,“ growled Gimli, looking at the Elf and remembering how the Elvenking had abandoned the Dwarves in their hour of need.  The Elf looked away.</p><p>Many others of Elrond’s household stood in the shadows and watched them go, bidding them farewell with soft voices. There was no laughter and no song or music. At last they turned away and faded silently into the dusk. Gimli turned and saw Gloin’s stern visage watching the departing party, his face as hard as if it were carved from stone but Gimli could see the emotion roiling beneath. Bilbo stood with him and pressed a handkerchief into his hand.</p><p>Within the borders of Rivendell they still had some protection, little did they know it, but from Elrond’s ring of power as well as the scouts patrolling within the realm. Riding a mile or so ahead and behind them were those twin sons of Elrond, ensuring their way out of Rivendell was safe at least. For the reasons discussed at the Council they could not journey further with them, but their presence was welcome.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comments are encouraging! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On their first day out of Rivendell, the first day of the Fellowship proper, the cultural differences of the group quickly became apparent in myriad small ways.  In mixed company, Dwarves were generally silent. This seemed to be in stark contrast to hobbits. Pippin would not stop talking. “What do you think Fatty is up to now in Crichollow, dressing up in your clothes?” It seemed this ‘Fatty’ had been left behind to keep up the pretence that Frodo was still living in the Shire, and to answer inconvenient questions and put people off the scent. A sensible precaution. </p><p>The Hobbits seemed to be wary of ‘the Big Folk’ as they called everyone larger than a hobbit. Gimli wondered if they also called themselves ‘he’ when in strange company, regardless of what was in one’s smallclothes. </p><p>Hobbits were smaller than Dwarves: less stout and stocky, but not actually much shorter. In Rivendell Sam had seemed initially to avoid with dismay everyone apart from the Burglar and Gandalf. By the end of our preparations he seemed to be more comfortable with talking and all the hobbits’ faces were good-natured and their mouths apt to laughter.  They had been singing softly what they called ‘Bilbo’s travelling song’, over and over again and it was beginning to get on everyone else’s nerves. </p><p>At the bottom of a forest path, they came upon a small clearing and there they halted for the day. Sam nervously fiddled with the straps of their packs. He carried within cooking gear, salt, a good supply of pipe-weed, flint and tinder, woollen hose; linen; various small belonging of his master’s that Frodo had forgotten and Sam had stowed to bring them out in trumph when they were called for.  To Frodo he said “I pity snails, and all that carry their homes on their backs! I shall be as thin as a willow wand before we reach the mountains!” </p><p>“Sam, Bilbo always used to say ‘Its’ a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door. You step into the Road, and if you are not careful there’s no knowing where you might be swept off to. Do you realise that this is the very path that goes through Mirkwood, and that if you let it, it might take you to the Lonely Mountain or even further and to worse places.’ He used to say that outside the front door at Bag End.”</p><p>They began to unpack by the small stream. “Bring all the water-bottles,” Frodo instructed the other Hobbits.  When they left Rivendell, they found the Elves had filled their bottles with a clear drink, pale golden in colour: It had the scent of a honey made of many flowers, and was wonderfully refreshing. The Hobbits had only one bottle remaining now between the four of them. Even Gimli had to admit, even if to himself only, that it was the best thing he had ever tasted. They filled their bottles and small camping kettle at a little fall where the water fell a few feet over an outcrop of grey stone. It was icy cold; and they spluttered and puffed as they bathed their faces and hands. </p><p>Aragorn had banked the camp’s cooking fire after the evening meal then sat on a log beside the embers. He was smoking a long-stemmed pipe, curiously carved. His legs were stretched out before him, showing high boots of supple leather that fitted him well, but which had seen much wear and were now covered in dust. A travel-stained cloak of heavy dark-green cloth was drawn close about him, and the hood was down. His shaggy head of dark hair was flecked with grey, and in his pale stern face was a pair of keen grey eyes. They gleamed as he watched everything about him. His face was softened by a sudden smile as he watched the hobbits. The hobbits did not hurry unnecessarily and were talking idly. Legolas then spied Gimli creating a separate campfire. Typical of Dwarves, so aloof. Legolas was shocked that he would take it as far as to isolate himself and make a separate campfire from the main group but Naugrim were crude and unmannerly. Legolas himself, was separate, in the upper branches of a tall tree at the edge of the campsite, but that was different as he was honouring the skies.</p><p>The previous year Aragorn had delivered to the dungeons of Mirkwood the creature Gollum to be held secure. For many weeks Aragorn had convalesced in the halls of Mirkwood as the conditions he had travelled in had been harsh and he had faced many attacks, both by beasts and by the creature Gollum itself. Legolas had developed an admiration for and a rapport with this fosterling of Elrond and was glad to be journeying with him. To his shame it had been under Legolas’ watch that the creature had escaped but it was with relief he found that neither Aragorn nor Mithrandir bore him any ill will. Mithrandir knew him from an elfling and he was glad he was journeying with them. He had ventured to Rivendell as a simple emissary and had not expected this turn of events and was feeling unsettled. He had had little contact with Men, apart from Aragorn, who had been brought up living with elves. He did not know what to make of Boromir or the hobbits. At least he knew where he stood with the dwarf. His own father had imprisoned Gimli’s own sire. He knew that they were a harsh and unforgiving people, who bore long grudges, so he already knew not to bother to make an effort to attempt to speak with Gimli.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For an excellent account of how Aragorn caught Gollum read 'A Long and Weary Way' by Canafinwe on fanfiction.net  (long read over 100k words)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With curiosity Legolas observed as Gimli swung a rope over the stout branch which was almost above directly above the small fire he had kindled. The tree was not distressed, not even at the small fire near its base. It felt as if its interest too had been piqued. From the bottom of his pack Gimli unrolled an oiled cloth and approached the bubbling stream. The cloth turned out to be in fact an oiled sack which smelt faintly of tar. Gimli twisted the lip of the sack, and somehow a frame seemed to stiffen and support it and the sack was now the shape of a large bucket. He crouched at the edge of the stream and let the water flow into his vessel. When it was half full, he hefted the container over to his fire. The strength of him! As much as Legolas disliked his kind, he could not deny the raw might, and he watched Gimli's shoulders flex as he carried his load towards his own small fire. </p><p>By now, the whole company was openly observing. Gimli put the container down beside the fire. He threaded the rope through reinforced grommets at the top of the canvas. He tied a secure knot that even Legolas was grudgingly impressed with then pulled on the other side of the rope, where he must have installed a pulley system before Legolas had started watching. The container full of water was now suspended about a foot above the ground. </p><p>“What are you doing?” Pippin asked with open curiosity.</p><p>“What does it look like, Master Hobbit? Having a bath.”  With that he moved towards the fire – and pulled it across! </p><p>“Ai,” Legolas breathed, but his pride would not allow him to call down and say more. </p><p>Luckily Merry piped up, “How did you move the fire!”</p><p>“I kindled the fire on a thin metal sheet, upon a base of pebbles, Master Hobbit, that way I can move it to where it’s needed.”</p><p>Pippin’s mouth opened but Gimli began speaking again in response to the questions he had not yet asked.</p><p>“The bath sack is impervious to water and has two thin copper bases, inside and out. That way the water can heat up, without burning the canvas.  It is thin enough to roll back up and secure under my pack, but after my bath, I will hang it upside down to dry, then use it as a base for my sleeping roll. It is waterproof, so I shall not get wet if the ground is damp.” He had an infuriating smirk and tucked his thumbs into his belt and he observed the dumfounded expressions of his companions. </p><p>“Uncle Bilbo never mentioned any of this in his red book,” said Frodo. </p><p>“Of course not. It is not polite to spy on others having their baths, and even less so to write about it.” Frodo went red and began to stammer an apology, but Gimli just gave a hearty laugh. </p><p>“I never said there’s anything wrong with asking. Ask me anything you want, lad.  I can’t guarantee an answer, but if we are to travel together, we can’t be afraid to ask questions.”</p><p>Frodo gave him a grateful smile. </p><p>“Begging your pardon, Mister Gimli, sir, but Mister Bilbo said the Dwarves bathed in a fountain in Rivendell. Why would they do that if they were so private, sir?”</p><p>“To annoy the Elves!” Gimli laughed then went back to his pack.</p><p>He took out a small spade and a small metal can. He scooped out some of the warm water from his tub then wandered into the bushy area surrounding the camp.  Merry and Pippin looked at each other. </p><p>When he returned, he dipped a finger into the heating water, as if to test the temperature, before wandering back to his pack. </p><p>“Um, you said we could ask questions,” Pippin said with a slightly defensive tone. </p><p>“Aye.”</p><p>“What did you take the spade for? I mean, Merry was saying,” and at this the self-same Merry jabbed Pippin in the ribs.  Pippin continued, “we were wondering, do you have to dig your shit out of your body?”</p><p>Gimli was still and silent for a long moment. </p><p>Legolas was horrified, he had never even considered that they were so Other. He had heard the rumour that their very children were carved from stone but had not believed it. Surely not. Surely not this. </p><p>Gimli laughed. It was clear he was trying not to be too loud, but this seemed to make him laugh all the more. He laughed until he had to squat down on his haunches as if his legs would no longer support him, his face was red and tears were streaming from his eyes. Finally, when he could breathe again without descending into those irritating hoots of laughter Gimli answered. </p><p>“Nay, lad. Tis to bury the waste.  Why leave a turd on the ground winking up at everyone who may pass it?”</p><p>“So that’s what you do in your mines?”</p><p>“Nay, lad. There’s a whole system for that.”</p><p>It seemed that at this stage Pippin’s courage deserted him and did not ask any further. </p><p>Gimli moved the fire tray away from below the tub, and then used the pulley to lower the tub to rest on the ground. From within the tub he filled what appeared to be a small bladder with the steaming water and with a thin string Gimli hooked it over the branch, so it was suspended above the tub. After looking around, he found a small boulder and hefted it against his chest, then dropped it beside his tub. He found a second boulder and dropped it into the tub. A step and a seat.</p><p>Gimli returned to his pack and took out four short pieces of wire and then unwrapped the waterproof cover surrounding his pack. The short wires, were actually not short. As Gimli tugged at them, they seemed to unravel from within, as if many shorter lengths of wire were nested inside each other. He threaded them through the top and bottom of the sheet, which appeared to have loops ready to receive the wire. Once it was firm it created a convex shape, and he placed this beside the container, on the side facing the group. A privacy-screen.</p><p>Gimli sat on the rock and pulled off his boots and socks. His ever-present axe was placed beside the large boulder. Gimli shucked off the helm, the mail and armour and then stepped behind the screen to remove the remainder of his clothing. From Legolas’s vantage point, the screen did not serve. He had not intended to witness this, but to move now would draw attention to his position and enrage the Dwarf. Besides, there was no harm in looking. His people were very comfortable with being skylclad. Iluvatar had created them beautiful, and they rejoiced in his creation. He could understand why the Stunted Ones wanted to hide their deformed bodies. Nevertheless, he averted his gaze until he heard the sound of Gimli entering the water then sitting on the boulder inside the container, submerged to the shoulders. Gimli groaned, a deep and throaty sigh which seemed to descend into the depths of the ground and anchor him there. </p><p>He had obtained soap, presumably from his pack.  Later in the journey, Legolas would observe Gimli making his own soap, by adding ashes to his metal can and boiling them, together with a little fat from the remains of a hunt.  Gimli would skim off the resulting lye and use that to wash himself. This first time, however, Gimli used a sweet-smelling bar of soap. Sweet smelling! Surely this Dwarf had stolen such a thing. What would a Dwarf want with perfumes and sweet-smelling things? No, that was ungenerous. Despite his faults, this Gimli had not shown himself to be a thief, and why would a Dwarf covet soap of all things? Some bargain then, had been struck by merchants and the soap must just have been thrown in together with coin as payment or as a bonus with other purchases. </p><p>Gimli washed thoroughly and efficiently. When he had finished lathering his body, he washed his hair and beard. He was unbound. Legolas blushed. It did not concern him when the others had hair cropped short and unbraided, but as this one had a language of braids, not unlike his own, he understood the intimacy of having his hair loose about his shoulders. Somehow, he had contrived to set the bladder above him to rain down water on his head, and with this he rinsed his hair and beard.  Legolas looked away again as he made to step out of the water by stepping on the boulders.</p><p>As soon as he emerged from behind the screen and was dry and fully dressed Merry and Pippin stepped up with arms folded. </p><p>“Our turn next.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments are encouraging :-)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With surprising efficiency Gimli set about preparing for the halflings to wash. There was a spigot Gimli attached to the lower tub and drained out the used water. Surprisingly, the water did not go everywhere, but seemed to follow an orderly course away from the clearing and into the underbrush. Gimli removed the boulder inside the tub then carried the tub back to the stream.  The water heating process was repeated but Gimli packed away the bladder. As the water boiled, the four hobbits retreated into the undergrowth. </p><p>“So that settles it, the bath will be oldest to youngest and we will go in twos.”</p><p>“I brought the toilet paper you like, Mister Frodo.”</p><p>“What about us!”</p><p>“You should have thought to pack your own then, shouldn’t you!”</p><p>Boromir and Aragorn just looked at each other as the argument faded into the underbrush. Boromir seemed to think of the hobbits as children of some sort. This itself was ironic as Boromir was closer in age to them, than to Tharkûn, Legolas, Aragorn or himself. Gimli knew not to make that error, of confusing their outward appearance with their inner strength. He knew from the tales of the Company that the Burglar had been stout-hearted and that the hobbits were a doughty people, despite appearances. </p><p>Later, all would come to see that the Hobbits were a curiously tough people. They were, when it came to it, difficult to daunt or to kill; and they were, perhaps, so unweariyingly fond of comfort and luxury not least because they could, when put to it, do without them, and could survive rough handling, grief, foe or weather in a way that astonished those who did not know them well and looked no further than their bellies and well-fed faces. </p><p>Gimli took up a whetstone and attended to his axe.  His stern visage brooked no approach.</p><p>A few minutes later the arguing resumed and the hobbits walked back into the clearing.</p><p>“Now look, I’ve scratched my bottom with a leaf, that’s all your fault.”</p><p>“My fault! You were about to use poison ivy on your bum. I told you to use anything else!”</p><p>Aragorn coughed delicately. The four hobbits turned to look at him. “As we walk tomorrow, I can point out the various plants and grasses that can be collected for use in…that situation.”</p><p>Boromir was less subtle. “How much space have you wasted packing paper – paper! – for your rears?!”</p><p>“Only one roll, and that’s for Mister Frodo and me, Sir,” retorted Sam with a slight blush, but with an indignant jut of his chin. </p><p>“And the Dwarf, bringing a whole bath!”</p><p>Gimli did not look up from his weapon maintenance. “We are a clean people. When hundreds of sweaty, and hairy people live in close quarters you have to be. You’ve seen that the sack doubles as a sleeping base and takes up no excess space in my pack.” </p><p>Boromir gave no answer to this.</p><p>At the gates of Khazad dum, Gimli had abandoned his bath paraphernalia. When Boromir was killed, and the Three Hunters attempted to recover the halflings, without a second thought Gimli had abandoned his pack, taking only the book of Mazarbul, together with food, water, his sharpening stone, comb and his weapons. They slept on the bare ground, covered only by their cloaks, but as much as he had grumbled, he had never grumbled about privations.</p><p>Gandalf had been sitting, smoking his pipe, seemingly lost in thought. He wore a tall pointed blue hat, his long grey cloak and a silver scarf. Then, as if he had been part of the conversation from the start, he spoke. His face was grave and attentive but he spoke sternly and there was a flicker in those deep eyes. “Dwarvish settlements are quite ingenious. They pipe in water, and it runs hot and cold throughout their habitations. There are public and private bath chambers, some with hot rooms and steam rooms. Waste is disposed of, hot air and hot water heat the caves, and fresh air is circulated through still more overhead pipes, blowing hot and cold.” The wizard seemed to think it important that the Elf hard this. “Legolas, you have been to Dale and seen the great labours of the dwarves there. The waterways, the fountains and the pools.’</p><p>Gimli glared at him, as if a precious secret had been uncovered but said nothing. Interfering old busybody.</p><p>Legolas blurted out, he could not help himself. “No! They are like badgers in darksome holes, they are hairy and dirty. Vile.” The naug looked hurt. Something tugged at Legolas. Well, the truth hurts, doesn’t it? After ages alone in the dark, the Dwarves’ hearts were stone and treachery was in them. They could not feel hurt or be sensitive to insult in the way fairer beings were.</p><p>Gandalf spoke in a low voice. “Does Gimli smell, Legloas? Have you ever even heard him break wind? Those who grow up in very close quarters, are trained from a young age to be considerate to those around them and cleanliness and not being smelly is foundational to that.”</p><p>The Dwarves who had come into his forest had smelled, even moreso after a spell in the dungeons. Legolas refrained from mentioning this as he knew that to discuss that incident would only inflame the situation further.</p><p>Legolas did not respond and stalked away to the stream.  He did not answer the question called over to him. </p><p>“What were you doing in that tree? Were you spying on Gimli’s bath? Are you a pervert? Is he a pervert, Merry?” </p><p>He was feeling really annoyed now. He had climbed up to be able to sing and welcome the day in peace, and to comb his hair privately, that these strangers might not see him unbound.  Just a day ago he had been an Elf among Elves. He had breathed in the air of that deep valley, in the home of Elrond Halfelven where many of the Fair Folk still dwelt in peace. </p><p>Now, because of the Dwarf they thought badly of him. He did not care anyway. He climbed down from his perch and threw off his clothes as he walked then squatted in the shallow stream. Elves never really sweated, they never really smelled, but he enjoyed the cool feeling of the water on his skin. Pointedly he avoided looking at the hobbits bathe. It seemed like Sam and Frodo had gone in first, then Merry and Pippin, together also. These halflings were strange. When they met, Frodo had shocked him by greeting him in the high-elven tongue. “Elen síla lúmenn’ omentielvo, a star shines on the hour of our meeting.” Now he would not be able to speak privately with Aragorn or Mithandir without him eavesdropping as hobbit hearing seemed far keener than a Man’s. </p><p>Legolas’ sulk deepened.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Feedback is very welcome!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“A warm soak of the feet like this is almost civilised, isn’t it Sam?”</p><p>A contented murmur was the only response. </p><p>“Gimli, If I were you I’d clear away that screen if you don’t want it soaking wet. Pippin’s a monster for splashing!”</p><p>“Don’t you need the privacy?” Gimli was blushing.</p><p>Merry tilted his head, almost like an inquisitive puppy, confused at a command it does not understand. Gimli just sighed and began to pack away the screen. The incessant chatter began again. Frodo and Sam had bathed first and then Pippin and Merry used the same water after them.</p><p>“Remember Pip, when you had too much to drink and you had to be removed in a wheel-barrow after Bilbo’s ninety-nineth birthday?”</p><p>“Yes, and he gave my brother an umbrella with his name on it as a gift, as he had carried off many unlabelled ones!”</p><p>The voice of Pippin was suddenly lifted up above the others in one of Bilbo’s favourite bath-songs. That Bilbo had a bloody song for everything, Gimli thought to himself.</p><p>	Sing hey! For the bath at close of day<br/>
that washes the weary mud away!<br/>
A loon is he that will not sing:<br/>
O! Water Hot is a noble thing!</p><p>Gimli ignored a verse about rain or something or another, then he listened again as the song continued.</p><p>	O! Water cold we may pour at need<br/>
down a thirsty throat and be glad indeed;<br/>
but better is Beer, if drink we lack,<br/>
and Water Hot poured down the back.</p><p>Gimli could certainly agree to the sentiment and decided to listen more intently.</p><p>	O! Water is fair that leaps on high,<br/>
in a fountain white beneath the sky;<br/>
but never did fountain sound so sweet<br/>
as splashing Hot Water with my feet!</p><p>There was a terrific splash and a shout of 'Woah!' From Merry. It appeared that Pippin had acted out the actions of the last verse. </p><p>Aragorn quietly began to sing a jolly song in the common tongue. It sounded like something from a soldier’s mess hall but less bawdy and his voice was rich and deep. The atmosphere of the camp felt lighter, however at the end of the song Boromir frowned and muttered under his breath. “How are we going to approach stealthily, if this group behaves in such a manner.”</p><p>“Good cheer, is as much a necessity as courage and endurance. I am sure that the fact we are merely a day’s ride from Rivendell is what allows such laxity. Of course, noone will wander outside the encampment, or be noisy when there is fear of attack. We are still within the range of Lord Elrond’s patrols.” Gandalf was looking at Boromir, but the words had an air of a public address.</p><p>Boromir had humpfed and began to look busy in his pack. He was dark-haired and grey-eyed, proud and stern of glance. His garments were rich and his cloak lined with fur, but stained with long travel His locks were shorn about his shoulders. </p><p>Gimli brooded. That bloody Elf. Always everywhere. That Man! Assuming he did not know how to behave on a journey. How the fuck did he think he had made it safely to Rivendell all the way from Erebor if he were as incompetent as he implied. He knew how to cover his tracks. Of course he would not let water flow everywhere when in a land Under Shadow. How dare Gandalf give away secrets of his people like that! Dwarves always built with a source of water accessible during a siege, why did he have to let everyone know that? And that insufferable Elf. How dare he spy on him, to look upon him as if he were some creature performing in Dale market. </p><p>Gimli set about combing his beard. His hair and beard were always rinsed out with separate, clean water. They were his pride and joy. His grandmother was a Firebeard and he took his colouring from her. Gimli closed his eyes. Seven strokes of the comb for the seven tribes of the Dwarves. Seven more strokes for the seven lives of Durin the Deathless. Fourteen strokes, for the fourteen who had secured Erebor. O Kheled-zâram fair and wonderful. Ten stars in the constellation ‘Durin’s crown’ till he wakes, ten strands in the braid that marked him as a Longbeard, Durin’s folk, tied with a leather thong of Durin blue.  In this way, reciting the remembrances of his people, he completed his prayers, and braiding, which were one in the same.</p><p>The hobbits were sleeping close to the banked fire and Gimli heard Sam murmuring close to Frodo’s ear. “You can trust me to stick to you through thick and thin – to the bitter end. And you can trust me to keep any secret of yours – closer than you keep it to yourself.” He kissed his forehead. “I will not let you face danger alone.”  </p><p>The words had the quality of a vow, and Gimli felt like he and intruded into something very private. </p><p>A few creatures came and looked at them when the fire had died away. A fox passing through the wood on business of his own stopped several minutes and sniffed.</p><p>‘Hobbits!’ he thought. ‘Well, what next? I have heard of strange doings in this land, but I have seldom heard of a hobbit this far from other hobbits, and sleeping out of doors under a tree. Four of them. There’s something queer behind this’ The fox was quite right , but he never found out more abut this.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Note, the bath song is one of Tolkein's.</p><p>"...sleeping out of doors under a tree. Four of them. There’s something queer behind this." I like this Tolkien line, it warms to cockles of my slashy little heart. There certainly is something queer going on.</p><p>Please don’t be afraid to comment. I love getting feedback, suggestions, corrections or just sharing your thoughts!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gently, Gimli bit Legolas’ bottom. </p><p>Legolas stirred and smiled down at him as he lay on his stomach with his arms cushioning his head. Gimli did not smile back. </p><p>“’Tis revenge I’m after, lad.”</p><p>Legolas froze, cold gripping his heart.  So was this the legendary stubbornness of Dwarves? To hold onto a grudge from father to son. To wait years to mete out punishment?  To burn the Elvenking in revenge by destroying his son as punishment for Thranduil's treatment of the Dwarves. For Gimli to pretend to have forgiven him for his part in his Father’s capture and imprisonment all those years ago. To diminish his role in aiding their escape? Had this all been a ploy? The growing understanding between them? The declarations? The braiding? These precious weeks in Minas Tirith? Was Gimli acting in spite of his own heart? For there was no fabricating those tender looks he had received, those tender touches, kisses. Gimli knew Legolas would love but once. Was this his revenge to break both their hearts, to settle matters brewed by their sires?</p><p>Legolas did not respond.</p><p>“Aye, last night you bit me all over, in your passion. So it is only just that you receive the same treatment.”</p><p>Legolas released a trembling breath. </p><p>Gimli kicked himself. He had felt Legolas’ whole body tense. His joke had fallen flat and worse, hurt the one he loved. He should have remembered that when Legolas woke from sleep after lovemaking he always took a few minutes to collect himself and emerge from a fog of confusion. The mood was now ruined. Gimli brought himself back to the head of the bed and kissed his Elf on the head. “I’m sorry, love. It was just a joke.”</p><p>They both knew that despite the love they had for each other there would be much patience needed and forbearance required due to their differences.</p><p>“Love, let me show you what I have made for us.”</p><p>Gimli had spent weeks looking for the right materials. As a certified hero, the Men in the city overcame whatever reservations they may have had and assisted him in his endeavour. </p><p>“Ai! Gimli, it is a bathing sack like the one you had at the beginning.”</p><p>“Nay lad, ‘tis not like that one. This one fits two. Two larger than Hobbit size,” he corrected.</p><p>Gimli had not been born when his parents had left Erebor. They had enjoyed all the privileges of a mighty Dwarven kingdom then become homeless in one fiery day.  Even after Erebor was reclaimed, that wound in their heart had never quite recovered. To know security and lose it. To be looked down upon by Men, and Elves as they begged and scrounged for survival.  As he grew up, the privations of refugee life had been normal to him and the treatment received at the hands of Men nothing abnormal to him. Aye, it stung his pride when good quality work was bartered down to a pittance because the buyer knew of the desperation of the maker. To see his mother trying to salvage the spoiled meat they had been sold by cutting off the worst parts and using salt and spices to make it fit for consumption. </p><p>Now, as known companions of their king, heroes of the war, the Men were falling over themselves to try and curry favour with one who had the ear of their King.  Gimli still made sure to pay a fair price even when the items were offered freely as gifts. The sheets of copper which he would beat into the required shape and size then rivet to the oiled sack he commissioned. Aragorn ensured they wanted for nothing and purses of coin were regularly sent to the house they all shared. Word must have reached Aragorn, because a household purser of the Palace came down to consult Gimli about what provisions they would require for their journey. </p><p>On Arod’s back Gimli held his Elf. The bulk of their luggage was loaded in saddle bags on a second steed. They rode until nightfall and had not been able to persuade Aragorn to permit them to ride alone. Two of his own Dúnedain served as guards and one rode ahead and one guarded the rear.  There were still scattered bands of orcs and even Men who thrived on chaos and who would have no hesitation in accosting travellers. </p><p>At the end of the full day’s ride to Fanghorn, after they had shared a hearty supper, Legolas asked shyly if Gimli could set up the bath. The Dúnedain had set up their camp a discrete distance away and Gimli did not concern himself with the privacy screen. As the source of the water was not deep enough for the bath-sack itself to be lowered in, Gimli used two small buckets, of similar construction to the main bath, to fetch the water.  As they had ridden throughout the day, periodically Legolas had stopped and gathered plants and flowers. Now he placed these into to slowly heating water and they released a sweet fragrance. </p><p>“What should we do while we wait for the water to heat, Gimli?”</p><p>A familiar glint twinkled in his laughing eyes.</p><p>“I was thinking of tending to my Axe, it is important to keep it in good condition.”</p><p>“I could tend your Axe.”</p><p>Legolas was already unlacing him and without preamble had taken him in his mouth. Mahal. </p><p>Legolas’ hands were roaming everywhere and Gimli could not think. Those clever hands were removing his clothing and Gimli found himself laid down on soft grass. </p><p>“We need to make sure we are dirty enough, otherwise the bath will be a waste.”</p><p>“Aye, you talk sense, lad.”</p><p>They woke the next morning on the grass beside the bath. The fire had long ago gone out and the Dúnedain were discretely tending to their horses some distance away. </p><p>Without preamble, Legolas dressed quickly and went to gather more firewood.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please don’t be afraid to comment. I love getting feedback, suggestions, corrections or just sharing your thoughts!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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